Hephaestion Goes Hunting!
by moon71
Summary: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander’s wolf pack… Final part! Happy New Year!
1. Chapter 1

**HEPHAESTION GOES HUNTING! By Moon71**

**SUMMARY**: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander's wolf pack…

**DISCLAIMER: **Oh, get on with you… all right, all right, not mine!

**RATING: **K-T for sexy stuff, boys messing around etc…

**DEDICATION: **To my friend Fredericka, for such a wonderful gift, and for so much encouragement.

**NOTES: **Certain bits of this story remind me a bit of my story _Loving Hephaestion, _but I hope it's sufficiently different enough to justify its existence! I wanted to write a realistic story about boys being boys on a hunting trip with the kind of problems boys at that age might have faced.

I would particularly like to thank **Norrsken **for inspiring me to write a story in an outdoor setting with details of outdoor life, after her many delightful Illyrian and animal stories. And to apologise for the unintentional theft of a wild boar…

Since starting on Alexander stories I have constantly reassessed which of Alexander's future "Companions" might actually have been "Mieza boys" and which would have been quite a bit older – the cast of this story represents the latest reshuffle and is in great part the result of chatting with many friends!

**NOTE TO ALL DEAR FRIENDS: Will be away for a few days, but promise to reply to all messages next week!!!!**

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* * *

CHAPTER 1**

What can't be cured must be endured. That saying, a particular favourite of my nurse Aithra who kept an impressive arsenal of such sayings, never seemed more true to me than the day I set out on the hunt with Prince Alexander. Much as I hate to admit it, Aithra is usually right and I had in fact already learned the wisdom of this particular maxim at a very early age. My father's work, a mixture of diplomacy and covert intelligence gathering for King Philip of Macedon, meant that we travelled frequently – often to Athens, but also to Thebes and Sparta, or back north to the more wild environs of Illyria, Epirus and Thessaly. As much as was possible my mother and sisters accompanied us, for my father has always been a man who loved the company of his family, but if it wasn't safe for the women, he still took me and my pedagogue.

It was an interesting, sometimes exciting life but it could also be lonely and difficult. I was never a loner by choice and I craved the company of boys my own age, but to get what I wanted meant that each time we moved to a new place I had to go through the trial of being what I learned to think of as a new wolf seeking entry into a well established pack. And as is the nature of wolf packs, to earn one's place one had to be prepared to give and take a few bites, some of them quite vicious.

Actually with my father's help I had become rather good at it, had even tried to look at it as a challenge which I likened to the Labours of Herakles. So when my father called me to him one day and told me of the greatest upheaval I was yet to endure, I reassured myself that I was ready to meet this new Labour fearlessly. I was nearly fifteen. Macedon was my home, but I had spent so little time there that I had few friends and little practical experience of what it meant to be a youth of the Macedonian nobility. My father saw a chance to address that problem when King Philip announced he was sending Alexander and his friends to study away from Pella, in a school to be run by the philosopher Aristotle.

It was a brilliant opportunity, not only to study with a man who had sat at the feet of Plato, but to work my way into the Prince's set and befriend boys who, was Alexander to become king, would surely become his Companions and hold powerful positions in the Macedonian army. The school, to be based at Mieza, would serve as preparation for the next step forward for high born Macedonian youths – to enter the School of Royal Pages and serve King Philip himself. I was ready for that – I was even quite excited about it. Though I would miss my family, I looked forward to being settled and having the chance to spending more time with other boys and forging some enduring bonds of friendship at last.

Even so, I couldn't help a strong twinge of apprehension when I woke on this particular morning and remembered where I would be spending the night – out in the forested hills above Macedon, in the company of King Philip's son Prince Alexander and his friends. The hunting trip was a three day affair, organised by Alexander's tutor, his kinsman Lysimachus, and involving only six boys besides Alexander and myself, all of whom would be studying with us at Mieza. I told myself it would be good fun, but I really did not know what to expect – I had not spent much time with these boys yet, nor grown completely used to Macedonian ways, and I had never been hunting in my life, let alone camped out in the wilderness. There were wolves and bears out there, even lions. What if something tried to eat me? The other boys would surely sense my fear, notice my inexperience… if the wild animals didn't eat me alive, my companions surely might…

"Hephaestion?" My father's voice broke in upon my thoughts. "Aren't you going to finish your breakfast?"

I looked down at the porridge, bread, cheese and fruit set before me without much relish. "I'm not really hungry, Father," I said quickly, trying to sound cheerful, but it was impossible to hide from his penetrating gaze. He studied me for another moment, then leaned back in his chair.

"So what did you make of Antipater's sons?"

I brightened, glad he was not going to force me to admit my apprehensions. "I'm not sure yet…" I admitted, then considered the matter thoughtfully. One of the best things my father had taught me was how to assess the characters of those around me, through quick but careful observation. It had made adapting to my ever changing world so much more endurable and given me a badly needed advantage each time I had to break into an established circle of friends. There was something else I had learned, though – adults had a habit of forgetting that children had their own sets of rules to live by, their own codes of honour to be observed. Telling tales on boys I hoped would be my friends was strictly forbidden. "Cassander, the eldest one, seems the cleverest," I said at length, "though Nikanor is the friendliest. Iollas seems a bit sickly," I added, deciding there was no treachery in stating the obvious, "he coughs a lot and he's very thin. I'm surprised they're letting him go hunting at all!"

My father stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Don't dismiss him too lightly, Hephaestion. Iollas reminds me of a boy I once knew in Athens. He was always coming down with some illness or another and I can remember the women constantly shaking their heads and prophesying he wouldn't see out his fifth birthday… then his sixth… then his seventh… the last time I met him his wife – the daughter of a very rich landowner - had just borne his ninth child and he had just landed himself a very powerful appointment in the Athenian government!"

I considered my father's words thoughtfully, managing to swallow a few mouthfuls of porridge as I did so. There could be something in what he had said – Iollas was a bit weedy, but he was polite, observant and attentive to the of the needs of others, qualities I already knew could be just as effective as skills in riding or wrestling or throwing the javelin if used wisely. He was slighter and fairer than his brothers and his rather misty blue eyes were very pretty; with my growing awareness of the ways of adults, I could easily see him catching the eye of a well placed man.

I had quite enjoyed observing him and his brothers the day before when we had gathered to prepare for our excursion – I decided that Nikanor, the youngest one, had the sweetest nature; with his thick red hair and his chunky figure, he seemed the archetypal Macedonian boy, a bit thick, perhaps, or maybe just too easily distracted, but ready to spring into action when the situation demanded it. Cassander, the eldest, was the most enigmatic – his eyes were paler and colder than Iollas' but they glinted with intelligence. He was the handsomest of the three with a evenly proportioned physique and wavy dark brown hair. I decided he deserved closer observation.

"And what," my father presently continued, "did you make of young Alexander…?"

That made me hesitate. I looked down into my porridge bowl and thought how best to answer the question diplomatically. "I… don't know, yet," I said at last, "he was nice to me when we met…" I did not want to add what I suspect my father had already guessed – that Alexander was proving something of a disappointment…

* * *

Perhaps it would have been different if I had not met King Philip first. My father was anxious for me to meet him – or, perhaps more accurately, for him to meet _me._ My father always talked both admiringly and affectionately of the Macedonian king and he had seemed almost as excited as I was when he had the chance to show me off to this man he thought so well of. I had carefully rehearsed my polite greeting for the audience, but the moment Philip entered the scene I was struck dumb.

He wasn't as tall as my father, or, I secretly thought, as handsome, though he might have been without the scars of war and the ugly mesh of discoloured skin where one of his eyes had been. But his presence seemed to fill the room, vital and masculine and compelling. So, I thought might Herakles himself have looked after all of his Labours, his voyage with Jason and his many other trials, just before he became a god. As I stood there, gaping like an idiot, Philip smiled at me, ruffled my hair and spoke to me in clear, refined Greek, welcoming me back to Macedon. I can hardly remember what I mumbled in reply, only the touch of his warm, calloused hand upon my cheek which made my heart beat very quickly.

"You do your father credit, boy," Philip grinned, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine, "the young men of Macedon won't know what's hit them!" With a sly look at my father he added, "he's every bit as handsome as you were at that age, Amyntor!"

My father laughed wryly. "You flatter me, Philip. Hephaestion gets his charms from his beautiful mother!"

Before I could think of something suitably incisive and precocious to contribute, the interview was over and I was packed off to the care of a servant who would take me to Prince Alexander and his friends. I felt a little hot and dizzy as I followed the servant down the corridor; my sexual awareness had ripened over a year ago and even before that I was prone to violent crushes on attractive older men, but I had never come across one so overpowering as King Philip. I even found myself envying my father's easy closeness to him; they had met when they were probably no older than I was now and I wondered if my father had once felt as I did just then. Then I remembered I was about to meet Philip's son, and felt a new rush of excitement. I had heard that Alexander's mother Olympias was in her own way just as formidable as Philip; I had even heard the servants whispering that she might be a witch. My head filled with images of Medea, of Circe…

But then I had been brought to Alexander practising with the javelin out in the Courtyard and been instantly disillusioned. I had been expecting a young Herakles, capable of strangling serpents with his bare hands, but this small golden haired child who would hardly come up to my chin standing on his toes seemed more like the type of comely youth who Herakles would abduct and have his way with. Rather than let him lead this hunting expedition I thought his parents would be well advised to lock him away in some dark labyrinth so that mighty Zeus couldn't see him and carry him off to Olympus to take up where Ganymede had left off.

It was that wicked train of thought which made me greet Alexander with a smile, one which he returned with a polite address in Greek which I thought rather too formal for chatter between boys our age – this I did not care for; it seemed to single me out as different from the others and I saw Alexander's companions eyeing me curiously as they might a rare freak of nature like a two headed snake or a black dove. It seemed to set the tone of our relations for the rest of the day; the boys talked eagerly enough, but Alexander was the only one who talked directly to me…

* * *

It would take time, I told myself as I managed to get down the last of my breakfast, shoving a couple of sweet red apples into my pack before I kissed my mother and Aithra good-bye. I rode over to Pella with my father who had business with Philip that morning; seeing Alexander standing by the stables with his friends Hector and Perdiccas, I slid from the back of my horse; I had already been told we were travelling on foot and I did not want to appear ostentatious by riding up to the other boys. My father dismounted too and followed me over as one of the grooms approached to take our horses. "Joy to you, General Amyntor," Alexander called with what seemed a genuinely affectionate smile at my father, "joy to you, Hephaestion…"

My father grinned. "Look at you, Alexander," he cried cheerfully, "you've grown into a young man since I last saw you! And a most handsome one at that!"

I winced just a little at my father's over-familiar ways, but Alexander was evidently used to them too because he only lowered his head, his fair skin flushing, his smile becoming diffident. "Let me show you Bucephalus – have you heard the story of how I won him?"

"Your father wrote to me himself," my father declared, "and Hephaestion was quite enthralled to hear of it too, weren't you, Hephaestion…?"

"I…" I recognised the opening my father had created and seized it, though it was not as I would have played it myself. "Yes indeed… I've looked forward to seeing Bucephalus for myself for ages…"

We both occupied ourselves with admiring the beautiful black horse with the white blaze as the boys competed with one another to display their knowledge of horses in what I was coming to recognise as typical Macedonian vigour. Perdiccas, kin to Alexander by some connection I could not recall, was a tall, dark and slender youth, my age or perhaps a little older. As I listened to him talk I noted he was intelligent if a little pedantic; he was quick to correct Hector or me, less eager to correct Alexander, though not, I thought, because he was in awe of him. I thought my father would assess him as that sort of person who you hardly even noticed until you needed him, at which point you would find him waiting by your elbow. Hector was youngest of the boys who would be with us – a pretty one with sandy-ginger curls, playful brown eyes and an impish smile; I sensed no malice in him, but he was far sharper than Antipater's son Nikanor. He seemed to be a particular favourite of Alexander's – I noticed the warm glances the prince bestowed on him, the friendly arm about his shoulders. Hector was probably too young for _those_ sort of feelings, but I wondered about Alexander…

I told myself this was not the time for such thoughts. Better to make sure the ground beneath my feet was steady first. I felt a small pang as my father announced that he must go. "Health to you, my dears," he said in his lazy paternal fashion, "may Artemis bring you success in the hunt… make your family proud, Hephaestion…!"

"Don't worry, General Amyntor," Alexander called eagerly, hurrying back to us, "I promise I won't let any harm come to him!"

"Thank you, Alexander," my father said with a small bow, "I'm sure you'll make me proud too…"

"Health to you, Papa," I whispered as he bent to kiss me. He looked down into my eyes for a moment, understanding perfectly, then squeezed me firmly between the neck and shoulder, a gesture I had always found reassuring.

"Health to you," he said, and started away. As I turned back, I saw Alexander watching him go with an oddly wistful look in those colourless eyes of his. Well, I reasoned, if I had a crush on his father there was nothing wrong with his having one on mine, but somehow I didn't think that was what it was. I stored the thought away for future reference.

After a few moments we were joined by Antipater's sons. Alexander greeted them affably but then caught sight of his tutor Lysimachus walking across with a taller, younger man and jogged over to meet them. Once he was out of earshot I heard Cassander sigh. "Three days," he complained wearily, "three days of being ordered around by the infant Achilles…"

"At least we won't be having lessons or be stuck in the gymnasium in this horrid heat," Iollas responded reasonably.

"I think it will be terrific fun!" Nikanor declared, grinning at Hector. "Alexander says Lysimachus tells the most fantastic stories!"

"Achilles _and _Phoenix," Cassander muttered, "I can't wait!"

Nikanor's auburn brows drew together anxiously. "I still think it will be fun… Cassander, you won't spoil it by quarrelling with Alexander again, will you?"

Cassander frowned dangerously at his younger brother, but then those ice-blue eyes of his seemed to thaw and he actually smiled, reaching out to smooth his brother's curls. "No, I won't do that," he said. I blinked in surprise at this - it seemed as though Nikanor's open-handed simplicity had its uses after all.

"Come on," Cassander continued, "let's get away from the stables before Bucephalus overhears and gives me a kick!" Turning to me with as if he'd noticed me for the first time, he added in good enough Greek, "that's a nice horse you were riding, Hephaestion – is he yours?"

"I just got him," I responded deliberately in Macedonian – I knew the language fluently but I was suddenly very aware of my Greek accent. "His name is Golden. Not a very heroic name," I pressed on, ignoring the surprised looks of my companions, "but it just seemed to suit him!"

"Well, it does describe him rather well…"

"Where are you from, Hephaestion?" Nikanor suddenly spoke up, "I thought you were from Athens! Do they speak Macedonian there…?"

And so the ice was broken, with these few at least. The last boy to join us was another cousin of Alexander's called Leonatus. He was big and blonde with the build of a young wrestler; it didn't surprise me to learn he was fond of contact sports. Initially he struck me as a typical meat-fed Macedonian, earthy and tough, quick tempered but equally quick to forgive; lacking any real imagination. But as I looked at him now, I noticed that his chiton was of very fine wool, that his boots and his belt were of highly burnished leather and the spear he carried had a beautifully carved shaft. So he had an eye for fine things…

Finally Alexander, Lysimachus and the younger man with them came across to us. Sighting them, a young groom led out a sturdy looking grey horse for Alexander's tutor to mount. When I had first seen Alexander's tutor a few days before, I had been touched by a sense of anti-climax – I had expected some terrifying Spartan warrior armed with a switch and a gorgon's stare. The man who presented himself seemed quite plain and mild, more like a kindly but rather inattentive old uncle than a dreaded task master. Later my father explained to me that this was not the notorious Leonidas but Philip's kinsman who had been responsible for the care of Alexander before the "Spartan" took over – only _he_ wasn't a real Spartan either, he was an Epirote like Queen Olympias. I had quickly assessed and dismissed this gentle but ineffectual looking man, feeling a little sorry for him because I was certain eight spirited boys would drive him to distraction. But now as I watched him swing himself onto the back of his horse with no assistance I decided I would have to reassess him. He was past middle-age, but the muscles were still strong beneath the weathered, leathery skin and he handled the horse as only a Macedonian or a Thessalian could.

Even so, it was with a relaxed manner that he called us to order, leaving it up to the young man who was introduced to us as Crateros, son of Alexander, to inspect our kit and ensure we had bought the minimum of unnecessary luxuries. He eyed the hunting bow and the lightweight javelin my father had given me with a sceptical frown; the rest of the boys had spears of the heavy but flexible cornel wood. "You're General Amyntor's son," he observed in Macedonian. He had a deep voice perfectly suited to his stocky figure which suggested the hard won muscles of a soldier rather than the precise symmetrical proportions of a professional athlete. "The Athenian," he added. His coarse tone and probing stare suggested he had not yet decided whether he approved of me or not. As I gazed back at him with sullen defiance, he leaned closer. "Can you understand me, boy?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to snarl that I understood him as well as any other Macedonian, as much as anyone could understand his barbaric tribal dialect – I later learned he was an Orestid by birth – but two factors made the words die in my throat. One was that I was determined to be accepted as a Macedonian, not some foreign oddity; the other was that Crateros' steely gaze froze me to the spot. "Yes, sir," I mumbled.

Crateros gave a small grunt of laughter and released me from his glare. "You look a lot like your father," he said, "we'll see if the gods have gifted you his brains…!"

In fairness, he was just as strict with the other boys - he laughed at the oil Leonatus had brought to treat his leather boots and threatened to confiscate the cache of honey-cakes Hector insisted his mother had slipped into his pack when he wasn't looking. Alexander he treated with more respect; he frowned at the leather-encased scroll he found amongst the prince's provisions but refrained from comment. Alexander submitted graciously, the perfect little soldier. I saw Cassander roll his eyes and hid a smile behind my hand.

Finally with a nod from Lysimachus we were on our way.


	2. Chapter 2

**HEPHAESTION GOES HUNTING! By Moon71**

**SUMMARY**: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander's wolf pack…

**NOTE: **A massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I'm sorry I don't get enough time to reply to all reviews these days, I do try but when time allows I try to concentrate on writing. (But please feel free to email me if you have any questions or ever want to chat! I'm still there, I'm not an automated message service just yet!)

I really am glad everyone is enjoying this and that you all seem to like my more measured, analytical Hephaestion. I've done their "first meeting" quite a few times now and when the idea came for yet another one I wanted a rather different angle.

Having concentrated for so long on Alexander and Hephaestion, I also now relish the chance to work with a few other "historical persons" – in this case Lysimachus and Crateros (in a different context than his rivalry with Hephaestion!)

Thank you in particular to **Euripides – **how strange, your reviewed at the same time I was updating!!! I did intend to post all this quite quickly, but once again lack of time got in the way!

**CHAPTER 2 **As the hunt begins, Hephaestion tries to adapt to the outdoor life. But adapting to Alexander's peculiarities proves to be a much bigger problem…

* * *

I was the first to be given charge of one of the stocky little packhorses which had the decency to spare my blushes and follow me obediently. In gratitude I busied myself driving flies away from it and scratching its ears; it gave me something to focus on so I did not feel the need to make conversation with the other boys, all of whom seemed to know each other so well. Alexander walked beside Crateros for some time, enthusiastically discussing who should be assigned which duties once we made camp.

It seemed as though we were to rely almost entirely on our own resources, even down to setting up the camp, fetching water, cooking and keeping watch – there were no servants with us; no guards either. I got the feeling Alexander was anxious to impress Crateros with his organisational and leadership skills; I noticed how he moved about give words of encouragement to the other boys. I watched Crateros with some interest – Alexander might not be what I had expected, but he was comely and had a slight coyness about him that was suggestive. But the young officer seemed only politely attentive. He wasn't particularly handsome, with his strong, sunburnt features and coarse red-brown hair, but perhaps to Alexander, the little General in the making, beauty was less attractive than experience.

I was surprised and confused when Alexander finally gravitated toward me and lingered at my side. "We'll make camp at midday," he told me in a friendly tone, still using Greek, "it'll be too hot to walk or hunt then, but once we've set up camp we'll go hunting. I don't suppose we'll bag much today, but if we get some rabbits or a few fat fowl they'll do until tomorrow… Crateros is brilliant, isn't he?" he added, startling me with the sudden change of subject, "he served as a Royal Page and fought with the Companion Cavalry on my father's last campaign. I'm really glad he agreed to come with us, there's a lot we can learn from him… everyone needs to know how to survive on their own, don't they? I mean, what if you got trapped in enemy territory like Xenophon and his men? I brought along my copy of Xenophon's account of his journey out of Persia, I thought there would be lots of useful things in it…"

I listened without interjecting any comments; my legs were beginning to ache from the steady tread uphill and the heat was growing oppressive even with the protection of a sunhat but I was determined not to be the first to complain. When Alexander asked me a question I tried to speak and found my throat clogged and dry. Without blinking Alexander took out his water-skin and took a quick sip before passing it to me. "Take a good drink," he whispered, smiling at me when I glanced at him, "there'll be plenty of fresh, sweet mountain water where we camp; Phoenix knows these hills like the back of his hand, he's hunted here since he was a boy. Crateros just wants to give the impression that we have to ration the water, so we learn to manage without…"

I hesitated, feeling as though Alexander had led me into a trap, but by then I had taken a good gulp of water and could not resist swallowing more, relishing its cooling passage down my throat. By way of revenge, I dug into my pack and pulled out the two shiny red apples I had saved from breakfast, offering one to Alexander. He frowned at it, but I saw him lick his lips. Then he looked up at me with a grin, took it and bit into it before heading off to walk by the side of Lysimachus' horse.

* * *

The sun was rising high when Lysimachus ordered us to halt. Towards the end of our march the conversation had died off as all energy was reserved for keeping on our feet, but as we shed our packs and set about pitching camp a new wave of energy rippled through our party. Though it was Alexander who told everyone their duties, I noticed old Lysimachus watching him with a shrewd look I had not expected. He did not interfere or even give any outward sign of approval, but I saw Alexander glance quickly towards him several times as if seeking reassurance. Hector and Nikanor were to pitch the tents; Cassander and Leonatus collected wood for the fire; Iollas and Perdiccas groomed the horses and Alexander and I were sent to fetch water.

I found the whole process rather exhilarating, but was still happy to reach the stream and splash cold water over my hot, sweaty face before taking a long drink. I turned to Alexander, rather tempted to push him in, but when I saw him crouching so demurely by the bank, cupping water in his hands and sipping delicately, I held back. He was still such an oddity, I was not sure how he would respond to such horseplay.

When we got back to the camp, laden with bulging water-skins and brimming buckets, Cassander and Leonatus were kneeling smugly before a blazing fire and Hector was unpacking the bundles of provisions which included large cuts of cured venison and pork and a jug of strong white wine. I sat down with the others, eager to tuck in, but Alexander reached for another bundle and spread its contents before me. "I had the cooks pack lots of bread, cheese and fruit for you, Hephaestion," he said cheerfully, "I know they don't eat much meat in the South… here, I set aside some water for your wine, I know you don't drink it unmixed…"

I mumbled my thanks, trying to ignore the smirks of the other boys. Alexander smiled at me, oblivious to my mortification. "Sounds to me like these Greeks need toughening up," Crateros grunted in Macedonian from the other side of the fire. I hung my head to hide my burning cheeks and stole a resentful sideways glance at the prince. "Who's taking the first watch tonight?"

"I will, with Hephaestion," Alexander answered immediately, and to my growing annoyance he patted my knee as if I was in need of reassurance. "You can hunt with me too, this afternoon, Hephaestion," he went on happily, "I'll get you used to hunting with a Macedonian spear! You haven't done much hunting like this, have you? Don't worry, I'll show you what to do!"

"Perhaps Hephaestion can teach _you_ a thing or two, Alexander," Lysimachus suddenly spoke up, smiling fondly at his young charge, "that's a fine bow you've got, son of Amyntor…"

"The bow has its place, but it can't equal the spear – or the sarissa," Crateros stated bluntly, taking a swig of wine. "Think of Homer," he went on with a sly glint in his eyes I did not quite understand, "who was the better warrior – Hector or his troublemaking brother Paris?"

Lysimachus and Alexander exchanged a knowing look. "And yet Teukros, son of Telemon, was surely as brave and resourceful as _his_ brother Aias," the tutor declared, "Homer relates how the two of them fought side by side, a perfect team – Teukros hid behind his brother's shield and picked off Trojans with his arrows… of course, the gods, in their infinite mystery, were cruel to Teukros… now, of course you all know who his mother was…?"

"Hesione, daughter of Laomedon!" Hector cried eagerly, "Laomedon was king of Troy and the father of Priam!"

"Very good, son of Parmenion," Lysimachus agreed, "but can you tell me how she came to be the bride of Telemon…?"

As the boys competed with one another to answer his questions, we finished the last of the food and began to plan the afternoon's hunting. I could not help a grateful smile in Lysimachus' direction for his timely rescue, or, for that matter, a hard scowl at Alexander's back.

* * *

One cannot catch much clattering through the woodlands talking in loud voices, so though I was partnered with Alexander on his insistence, I was allowed to brood in silence. I was not much of a hunter; I was good at shooting at an open, fixed target, not a well camouflaged or quick moving one shielded by branches and vines. Nor was I very good at moving stealthily through the woodland. In the end I stumbled across a hare almost by accident. It was crouching in a small clearing, nibbling at the scrubby grass; as I blundered into the light it sat up, its ears pricked, but I managed to hold my breath and after an uncertain moment it relaxed. Moving as softly and slowly as I could, I raised my loaded bow.

A second later, a spear whistled past me and struck the hare right through its side, pinning it to the ground. It kicked out convulsively and lay still. I stared, speechless with indignation, as Alexander stepped out from the other side of the clearing to pull the spear free and deftly snap the hare's neck. "There you see," he chuckled as he saw my anger, "the spear versus the bow! Don't worry, I won't tell Crateros…"

"I could have got it," I snapped, pulling the arrow from my bow and slamming it back into my quiver, "you don't have to show off! And you can stop talking to me in Greek – I can speak Macedonian perfectly well!"

Alexander stared at me. I was hoping he might lunge for me so that we could have a good fight and I could give him an honest thrashing – then perhaps he would stop treating me like some little Greek princess! But he just picked up the hare, wiped off his spear and headed back into the woodland. Still hot with anger, I strode after him, not bothering to muffle my footfalls.

* * *

We were not speaking when we returned to the camp. Alexander had managed to kill two more rabbits and I had shot down a plump pigeon, but Antipater's sons had successfully brought down a faun and though Alexander congratulated them warmly, he had trouble disguising his chagrin especially when Cassander could not help crowing.

Alexander's distress visibly increased when he learned the fate of the other members of his band. Leonatus and Perdiccas had come to blows after Perdiccas had corrected his comrade's hunting technique once too often – Perdiccas was now sporting a magnificent black eye and Leonatus was walking in that particular way which I knew only too well denoted a kick in the crotch, and both were covered in scratches from the forest undergrowth. But apparently there were no hard feelings; the two of them were larking about and accusing one another of "fighting like a girl", and neither seemed very interested in listening to Alexander's counsel as to how they might treat their wounds.

Then we found Hector bent over stark naked by the campfire while Lysimachus rubbed some sort of greenish paste onto his reddened buttocks. My heart sank as I thought he might have received a beating for coming back empty handed – Lysimachus didn't seem like the type who was fond of the switch but I wasn't so sure about Crateros – but it turned out that the unfortunate son of Parmenion had only fallen backwards into a huge clump of stinging nettles. Quite unaffected by the indignity of his position, he was eagerly relating how he had been attacked by a giant roc and remained blissfully deaf to the jibes of the others that it had probably only been a large pheasant.

I thought the whole scene delightfully funny and actually felt my heart warm a little to the other boys; though they were boastful and rough they seemed so full of fun, and now that I had had time to study them I didn't think any were big enough or mean enough to make my life a misery. Alexander, however, continued to watch them all with such heavy disapproval that my annoyance at him momentarily intensified to real dislike, especially when I saw him throw an indignant look across to Lysimachus, as if demanding to know when he was going to bring us all into line. But when his tutor only smiled benignly in our direction and then looked away, I saw Alexander's cheeks grow very pink and a puzzled frown gather across his brow. I couldn't understand why he was taking all of this so seriously, but he looked so bewildered that I began to feel a little sorry for him.

My tempers were hot but they never lasted very long and as this one cooled, I found myself wishing I had not spoken so harshly to the prince – perhaps I should have been flattered that he was so attentive to me; perhaps beneath the sneers from the other boys there was a little jealousy that I was being shown such favour? I was competitive enough to want a good place in this Macedonian pack and besides, maybe, _maybe_ there was something more to it than Alexander playing the gracious host… maybe he _liked_ me… _really_ liked me… I thought of the sunny smiles he had bestowed upon me, the gentle, friendly touches…

I felt a little sick as I watched the animals gutted and did not bother to hide my relief when Alexander suddenly said, "I'm going to collect some herbs for cooking… I think I saw some edible mushrooms too…"

"I'll come with you," I said quickly. "I mean… I don't know anything about collecting mushrooms or herbs, maybe you can show me what's good to eat…"

Alexander looked at me expressionlessly, then nodded and led the way. "If you like…"

We set off in silence, but once we were out of earshot I caught at his arm. "Alexander, I… I'm sorry about what I said earlier… I didn't mean to be rude, I know you were only looking out for me…"

"It's quite all right, Hephaestion," Alexander answered primly, his eyes scanning the forest floor. "The matter is forgotten."

"You've made me feel very welcome amongst your friends," I offered, unconsciously picking up on his formality. "I'm grateful to you."

Alexander nodded. "You're one of my friends now… I wanted you to know it."

Encouraged by the mention of friendship, I ventured a smile. "I'm glad you think of me as a friend, Alexander… I think it's nice… that you _like_ me, I mean… I like you too…" I reached out and put my hand lightly on his shoulder. "I think I like you more than any of the others…"

Alexander looked up at me in dismay. "No, it's not like that," he blurted out, "I don't have favourites… it's just that I _did_ promise your father I'd look after you… and I respect your father very much… it would be _wrong_ of me not to keep my word…"

Well, I suppose I deserved that, but it stung a little. I lowered my eyes and hoped the dappled green light of the forest hid my blush. "What are we suppose to be looking for, then…?" I mumbled.

"Wild herbs… they usually grow near the stream, and I saw some… ah, there they are!" Alexander brightened, stooping down to pick some large, pale yellow mushrooms. "These are good. Come on, I think I saw a patch of purple sage growing near the bank of the stream… they say Aristotle is very interested in things like this," he observed, looking down at the mushrooms, "plants and animals and fungi, how they grow and reproduce, I've heard he even dissects them, takes them apart layer by layer… and makes drawings of them… I wonder what he'll teach us…"

I heaved a sigh, wondering if Aristotle could teach me to understand Alexander, to classify and catalogue him, maybe even to dissect him. Perhaps if we cut him open there would be nothing much there – just a dull, unimaginative, self-important prig with a missing sense of humour. But I didn't think so. The thought of Aristotle seeking permission to dissect the little prince in that vague, eccentric manner I imagined all philosophers to have, and being quite taken aback by the outraged response of the King and Queen, made me smile quietly to myself and lightened my spirits. "So what are these mushrooms called?" I asked.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**HEPHAESTION GOES HUNTING! By Moon71**

**SUMMARY**: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander's wolf pack…

**NOTE: **Thank you again for lovely reviews on both FFnet and LJ! Writing a story like this, with a remarkably simple plot but lots of small details, was something a bit different for me, though I have always admired authors who could do it. This next chapter should show a bit of the more playful, boyish Hephaestion and (hopefully!) explain Alexander's oddities a little better…

I don't usually say this sort of thing (listen, I was raised in the UK, they inject self-effacement into us in the maternity hospitals!) but I rather like my Lysimachus here – I've noticed in some Alexander novels and in some histories he's portrayed as a bit of an old fool, but I don't see him like that. Getting Alexander to cast himself as Achilles and his tutor as Phoenix sounds like a teaching masterstroke to me – probably the ideal way to get some hyper, overconfident Macedonian boy to sit down and finish his lessons! Tell me what you think!

**CHAPTER ****3: **With the first day of hunting over, Hephaestion ponders the enigma of Alexander and attempts a little reconnaissance. But his mind also wanders to more pleasant things…

* * *

When we got back to the camp, the other boys had already set to carving up the game we had caught and preparing it for roasting. I was not sorry I had missed the chance to skin the rabbits or pluck the fowls, but I was interested when Crateros and Lysimachus showed us how to season the meat with the herbs we had gathered and chop up and stew the rabbit with the mushrooms and also to wrap some vegetable roots the others had found in thick leaves and bake them in the fire. 

Alexander was active but quiet, responding only half-heartedly to the chatter of the others. To me he remained courteous but distant. Though he had talked almost non-stop during our foraging expedition, naming the various plants and explaining their uses including one which he claimed would soothe Perdiccas' eye, and praised me for finding a patch of wild strawberries, his manner was courteous and distant and he avoided meeting my gaze. Perhaps I was not quite forgiven after all – I had a sense Alexander could be given to long sulks – but I did not think that was it. Perhaps he was hanging back warily, deciding whether I could be trusted not to lash out once again. Or perhaps, I mused with some sadness, he had simply decided I was not worth the bother and had dismissed me from his thoughts.

Lysimachus ordered us to wash ourselves before the meal. We stripped off and clustered around two buckets of hot water; as the others laughed and joked and splashed each other – and stole sly, admiring glances at Crateros' well developed soldier's musculature - I could not help stealing my own glances at them and what they had.

Assessing what the gods had gifted to other boys and comparing it to what I had was something I had grown used to doing since I had begun to develop; if someone caught me staring I learned to meet them with a confident smile and a shrug. In this case I found I had little to worry about in the endowment line, so I focused instead in the general physique of the other boys. Hector and Nikanor were a bit too young to be compared to me; Iollas was too slender and Leonatus still had some puppy fat, though he also had some impressive muscles. Perdiccas was lithe but still a little too bony. Cassander was the tallest apart from me and Leonatus and had, as I had already observed, a good figure. But it was Alexander who caught my eye. He was not as skinny as I had thought; his muscles were sleek and compact and though he was small he was finely proportioned. For the first time that day I felt relaxed enough to become aware of desire, to think of the boys I would be sleeping the night with… with very little adult supervision…

The temperature was dropping as the sun set; Alexander pulled back on his chiton and primly smoothed out the wrinkles, but most of the boys just grabbed the furs we had brought and wrapped them about their naked bodies. I couldn't help the hot flush that spread through me as we gathered around the fire, nor could I help looking from face to face and wonder which one of these boys might just be open to the idea of a bit of…. touching…

Pangs of hunger disturbed my train of thought as I smelled the delicious scent of roasting meat. After Lysimmachus had supervised the pouring of libations and the casting of fat-covered bones into the fire, Alexander organised the distribution of the meal while Iollas poured out the wine and for a while my only thought was in eating as much of the delicious, smoky flavoured venison and rich rabbit stew as I could.

The simple pleasures of the hot campfire and the good food set against the darkening sky and the lonely expanse of wilderness around us created a warmth amongst our party; the other boys drew closer to me, striking up conversations and Hector and Nicanor in particular seemed to take a liking to me, though I guessed it was a childish one, not the kind I was looking for. They asked me about the places I had travelled to and what South was like, and practised their slightly timid Greek upon me. Even Alexander seemed to be heartened by the good food – he placed a basket of fruit and cheese before me without any irony and when most of the meat had been devoured he actually seemed rather pleased when I shared out the fruit amongst the other boys. When he saw me sipping cautiously at my unmixed wine, he discreetly pushed a water-skin towards me and I took it with an amicable smile.

Finally, feeling fat, lazy and serene, I stretched my feet out to the fire and let my thoughts wander where they would. Inevitably, as I was a little drunk and surrounded by other boys, some of whom had been warmed enough by wine, food and fire to let their furs fall loose, my mind wandered to the pleasures of _touching._

That was the name we had used for it when me and my friends in Athens, my father's last posting, had discovered the delights of sharing what we had already begun doing alone. We had not been very adventurous, only used our hands on one another, but it was a lot more exciting to have someone else's hand doing the work instead of one's own. When we had moved to Macedon I had missed this, I rather guiltily admitted to myself, rather more than I missed my friends. They had talked eagerly of Macedon, insisting that the people were barbaric and uninhibited (forgetting, in their enthusiasm, my own origins), and telling tales of all sorts of wild, drunken hedonism, strange rituals and esoteric sexual initiations for the youth of the nobility. Though of course I knew most of these stories to be either exaggeration or outright invention, I had listened with relish and enjoyed the envious gazes of my friends.

Curling up closer to the fire, I could not resist a smile as I remembered one particular tale of how each King of Macedon threw a party for his son when he reached the age of thirteen and invited all the sons of his nobles from which, at the end of the evening, the prince might choose a companion to take to his bed. I glanced across at Alexander, who was sitting neatly back on his heels with his hands smoothing his chiton down over his knees, and sighed. Not much chance of _that_. But maybe one of the other boys…

Just then Crateros rudely interrupted my muse by confiscating the wine-skins and declaring them hostage until we had proved we were real Macedonians and future Companions and not just a bunch of Greek-learned girls. "So," he barked, "each of you – tell me how you would take on the Sacred Band of Thebes!"

"That's not fair," Leonatus protested, "no-one has ever defeated them!"

"War isn't fair, boy, and neither am I," Crateros grunted, slapping Leonatus across the back of the head to emphasise the point. "One day you yourself might be riding against them, if they continue to resist King Philip! We can't take back the settlements the Persians stole from us if we have the likes of Thebes and Athens supporting them behind our backs! Besides, no army exists that can't be defeated…"

"Nobody can defeat _my _father!" Hector cried indignantly.

"Nor ours," Nicanor added, looking at his brothers for support.

"Nor Alexander's," Iollas put in diplomatically, receiving a poke in the ribs from Cassander for his pains.

Crateros groaned. "The gods save us from arse-kissing little papa's boys! Perdiccas, you start! Come on, imagine you're General Parmenion – or General Antipater," he added with a scowl at Nicanor.

Once they got used to the problem, the boys fell over themselves to suggest stratagem, the more informed ones basing their plans on former victories of the Sacred Band. Alexander grew animated for the first time that evening, his face bright in the firelight as he listened impatiently and argued each point with great vigour. But as a reward Crateros allowed the wine-skins to circulate freely once more, and as the alcohol heated their blood and loosened their tongues, the ways of defeating the band of lovers got less practical and more salacious: seducing the Commander's beloved just before the battle; placing a line of beautiful naked boys in the front row of the Macedonian Phalanx; planting agents in the Theban barracks to spread rumours of adultery amongst the lovers and beloveds; sending a hundred gorgeous hetaerae to cause consternation in their world of masculine love or simply forming an army of frustrated Theban women.

I was laughing along with the others when I felt someone's eyes upon me and turned to see Alexander staring at me with a heated mixture of anger and disappointment. He shifted onto his knees and seemed about to speak when Lysimachus, who I had thought was dozing comfortably, put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Alexander glanced helplessly back at him, then rose very quietly and left the fireside. A moment later his tutor followed him. Nobody else seemed to notice or if they did they paid it no mind; as I also got to my feet, Crateros alone called after me to remind me not to sneak off to bed – I was taking the first watch with Alexander.

I groaned inwardly.

Perhaps it was underhand of me to spy upon Alexander and Lysimachus, but one of the survival techniques my father had taught me was always to keep myself informed. Besides, I was angry and not a little alarmed – I had thought the matter over my little rant at Alexander now more or less forgotten, and by the look he had given me it was apparently not so. If Alexander was the type to bear grudges, perhaps I had already all but ruined my career and prospects in Macedon! What, I wondered, would my father make of _that?_

I hung back in the shadows. The two of them had stopped just on the far side of some of the tents and were talking quietly.

"…failing completely!" I heard Alexander's voice. "The hunt was a shambles, they don't listen to anything I say, and now they're making idiots of themselves in front of Crateros! All those horrible jokes about the Sacred Band – the bravest fighting men in Hellas, based on the most beautiful idea ever thought of…"

So that was all that was bothering him? How truly peculiar he was!

"Come now, my dearest Alexander…" Lysimachus' tone was so soft, so tender, I began to feel a little ashamed of my eavesdropping after all. "You're being too hard on your friends, and much too hard on yourself. We all had enough to eat and nobody was seriously hurt, and everyone has cooperated in setting up and maintaining the camp. Your soldiers have served you well and now they deserve to relax, to celebrate and to… well, to enjoy the spoils of war! Be a good leader, Alexander, celebrate _with_ them, just as your father would!"

I was oddly moved by Lysimachus' wise words; he evidently understood whatever was worrying Alexander a lot better than I did. I was about to slip away when I heard my own name.

"Hephaestion must think we're a bunch of barbarians, just like Demosthenes says," I heard Alexander sigh, "I hate to think what he'll say to his father…"

"He'll say you were kind and gracious throughout," Lysimachus answered firmly and, I had to admit, correctly, at least so far.

I froze, waiting for Alexander to tell his tutor all about my outburst after all, but instead all I heard was a rather plaintive "I hope so… I really want him to – "

I never found out what Alexander really wanted for me because at that moment the gods evidently decided my wickedness should be punished. I stepped on a thorn in my bare feet and let out a yelp of pain, and was discovered before I could limp away.

"Hephaestion…?!" Alexander frowned at me through the shadows; behind him, I thought I saw a knowing glint in Lysimachus' eyes, but I kept a straight face.

"I… just came to relieve myself," I mumbled, scratching clumsily at my heel to try to locate the thorn still digging into it.

"Then you should have gone downwind of the camp, child," Lysimachus chided me, "unless you want to find yourself in bed with a lion or a bear tonight!" Alexander said nothing, but unceremoniously grabbed a hold of my foot, felt around and then pulled out the thorn. I murmured my thanks and followed them meekly back to the campfire.

Fortunately, when we reached it the atmosphere had mellowed. More wood had been added and some of the boys had begun singing Macedonian hunting songs. Perdiccas was curled up asleep in a bundle of furs, as quiet and still as a cat. Iollas was leaning back against Cassander's shoulder; Hector rested his head in Nicanor's lap.

I saw Alexander and Lysimachus exchange a smile before the old tutor settled back onto his camp stool and Alexander shifted over to rest his cheek upon Lysimachus' knee. "Tell us one of your wonderful stories, Phoenix," I heard the prince say.

And so he did – and, I had to admit, it was indeed wonderful, all about the life and various adventures of Herakles. He told it like a proper storyteller, weaving in connected stories and remembering the characters' complicated lineages.

All at once, Crateros broke the enchanted mood by announcing that it was time to retire to bed. I sat up abruptly, remembering that I was to take the first watch with Alexander and not quite sure if liked the idea of it. As the others headed for their tents, I also realised I didn't know where I was supposed to sleep. "You're to share with me, Hephaestion," Alexander said as if he had read my mind. Unlike the others he still seemed quite wide awake. I nodded dumbly, trying to suppress a yawn.

_Well,_ I thought sadly, _so much for the touching…_

**TBC: **A night in the wilds of Macedon isn't Hephaestion's idea of fun...


	4. Chapter 4

**HEPHAESTION GOES HUNTING! By Moon71**

**SUMMARY**: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander's wolf pack…

**NOTE: **Thank you again to those who reviewed!!! And I can only apologise for how long it has taken me to update this. All I have to do is upload but quite frankly I've been running in circles trying to catch up with Christmas and have only just caught up with myself! It's a long time to leave boys out in the wild in the cold, but they're tough little soldiers so I won't lose sleep over it!

**CHAPTER 4: **A night in the freezing wilds of Macedon isn't Hephaestion's idea of fun. Meanwhile, Alexander's odd ways continue to puzzle… but our hero reckons he has a plan…

* * *

There really wasn't much to do besides listen out for the cries of the local fauna and keep the fire blazing. Alexander and I propped ourselves up on our elbows and took turns to pick out and name constellations, relating the stories of the most interesting ones. Despite my fatigue I felt a curious contentment in Alexander's company and was pleased to notice that he had returned to his earlier friendly manner. As the time passed and we drew closer to one another, I could not help my thoughts drifting wistfully back to the joys of touching, and began to wonder what it might be like to do that here, under the stars, by the fire. I marvelled how long a day could last when it was full of incident; we had been here in this camp only one day, yet I felt I had known Alexander all of my life.

I wanted to touch him. I wanted to know what it would be like with him. It had to be different, different from being with any other boy. Everything Alexander did was different, singular, unexpected. The thought of it was quite exciting. Perhaps he might even know something I didn't, or respond in a way that was completely new. The more I thought about it, the more I ached to touch him. My body began to awaken – it was never completely asleep at the best of times, and now, with little to distract me from my increasingly heated fantasies, the longing was almost unbearable.

Yet when I looked over at Alexander, his fair hair and pale skin taking on the colour of the flames, I was reminded yet again of just _how_ different he was from the boys I was used to, even from his own friends here in the camp; how seriously he took himself, and how unpredictable and potentially troublesome that made him.

What would my father say, assuming I ever had the temerity to ask him about such a thing? He would say this was not the time. Even if Alexander responded favourably to my advances – and I was not yet sure that he would – he would not be impressed by my lackadaisical approach to sentry duty. I might get him to do what I wanted, assuming – as I could not yet do – that he was as hot as I was. But he would certainly regret it later. My father would remind me to look at the bigger picture. I was sharing a tent with Alexander tonight and maybe tomorrow night too. There was plenty of time. I contented myself with watching and waiting, just as a good huntsman should.

By the time we were finally relieved of our watch, we were both sleepy and chilled despite our closeness to the campfire and all serious plans to have some fun with Alexander seemed vague and irrelevant compared to the prospect of warmth and sleep. By the light of a small lantern I quickly shed my chiton and bundled myself back up in my furs.

Alexander undressed more slowly, apparently still wide awake and irritatingly impervious to the cold, neatly arranging his own fur blankets. He slid beneath them and reached to extinguish the lamp, but then he hesitated. "Are you warm enough, Hephaestion?" he asked softly, "I mean, you… you can always share the furs with me if you're cold…"

"I'm perfectly fine," I blurted out before I could think twice, vexed all over again by the suggestion that I was less hardened than him to the rigours of outdoor living.

"Well…" I heard Alexander sigh, "if you're sure… good-night, Hephaestion."

I could have kicked myself. What an idiot I was! Alexander was asking me to share with him! He wanted to touch, or at least he wanted to be close to me, I was certain of it! Frustration choked my throat as I mumbled a response and Alexander put out the lantern.

All at once I was in utter darkness, thick, black and impenetrable. Worse, I was now quite alert. At first the silence seemed absolute – no footfalls or soft voices of servants, no sounds echoing up from the street below as when we had lived in an Athenian town-house. It was quiet enough on my father's Pella estate, but not _this _quiet. Then I realised that it wasn't quiet here either – I could hear the rustling of the trees… the clicking and chirping of night insects… the high pitched bark of a fox… the hooting of an owl… and further in the distance – I was sure of it – the eerie howl of a wolf.

I lay perfectly still for what seemed like hours, my heart thumping, infinitely weary but still wide awake. Was Alexander awake too? I dared not disturb him - surely whatever excuse I gave he would guess that I was scared and think all his coddling of me was justified. Concentrating as hard as I could, I finally detected his soft, regular breathing and judged that he was asleep.

I decided to apply logic to the situation. There were two boys keeping watch outside. When I strained my ears I could hear the gentle murmur of their voices. If I stayed awake all night, worrying that they might have fallen asleep, I would look and feel awful when the morning came and the whole camp would guess why. I had to get to sleep. Better for Alexander alone to know I was a coward than all of his friends as well! And, in the end, it was as good an excuse as any to share the furs with him after all…

Gathering up my blankets, I settled myself as close as I could to Alexander without dislodging the fur cocoon he had wrapped himself in. But after a moment he stirred sleepily, thrust out an arm and allowed me to burrow close. His compact little body was as hot as a campfire and he did not stir when I slipped my arms about him, but I was far too grateful, and far too exhausted, to think about touching for more than a few seconds before sleep overcame me.

* * *

I followed Alexander down to the stream the next morning in a state of great perplexity. I simply did not know what to make of him and it was beginning to pain me. As we walked through the fresh, chilly dawn air, Alexander for once in a mood of quiet serenity, I wondered at myself as much as him. When our hunting adventure had begun I had been viewing him as I viewed so many new situations – as an interesting mathematical or philosophical problem to solve. But now I was no longer able to be quite so dispassionate.

Understanding Alexander – and through understanding him, getting him to like me – had suddenly become a matter of some urgency. And that in itself confused me. I had been accepted by him and by the other boys too. They hadn't even subjected me to the usual torments and humiliations which I had come to associate with initiations into a new wolf pack. This had probably been down to Alexander, and so I supposed I was feeling grateful to him, but why did I suddenly want more? Why did I want him to like me just a little bit more than the others? And why, when I felt sure there were better prospects with the other boys, did I still want to touch him?

That at least seemed to be a lost cause. We had woken loosely one another's arms; the early morning air was cold and when I had tightened my hold, Alexander had willingly snuggled closer but seemed so oblivious to the presence of my hardness between us that I had to scrub the plan I had made to press closer against him and see if he was hard too. Instead, when he shifted onto his back and looked up at me, I did something I'd never done to any boy I'd touched with – I kissed his cheek.

"What was that for…?" Alexander asked me with open, innocent eyes. I stared down at him. He really didn't know? He really had _no _idea? He could secretly be laughing at me behind that blank expression, but I was beginning to doubt it.

"Uh… for making me feel like one of your friends…" I mumbled vaguely.

I half expected to have to endure another speech about duty and responsibility, but instead Alexander just smiled at me. "Of course you're one of my friends, Hephaestion," he said simply. But before I could respond, he had suddenly thrown off the furs and shifted to his knees, stretching his muscles much as he could in the cramped confines of the tent. Completely blind to my appreciative gaze as he was, he had almost disappeared out of the tent before I caught his ankle and asked him where he was going.

"Down to the stream," he told me cheerfully, "my tutor Leonidas taught me to bathe in cold water every morning, he says it toughens the body and heats the blood. You don't have to get up yet though… I mean, the others won't be up yet either," he explained quickly when he saw my frown.

I eyed Alexander shrewdly for a moment, then shook my head. "No… no, I'll come with you. Its better if we stick together, isn't it? And if you think it's good for the body…"

When Alexander looked at me in surprise, then gifted me with a happy smile, I knew if I had not yet quite brought down my prey that I was at least on the right trail.

As soon as we reached the stream, Alexander jumped in with such alacrity that I felt compelled to follow without testing the temperature first. The yell I let out when I plunged into the bitterly cold water must have carried all the way back to Pella. When I finally caught my breath long enough to be aware of anything but the cold, and had assured myself that my heart had really not stopped, I heard a sound that I realised I had never heard before. Alexander's laughter.

Treading water, I turned around to look at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were very bright. He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles, but when he saw I was still too stunned to be angry he dissolved once again. I might have reacted angrily – I had a sense that in some way Alexander had set me a test, and I was not yet sure if I had passed. At the very least I was the victim of a very mild practical joke. But there was such energy and such pleasure in Alexander's laughter that my annoyance changed quickly to amusement, and soon I was laughing too.

* * *

On the way back to the camp we found more wild strawberries and devoured them as if they were ambrosia from the table of the gods. Stimulated by his freezing swim Alexander chattered incessantly, this time of his father sending a team to the next Olympic games and of what sports and which athletes he liked the best.

As I listened, equally sharpened by the shocking experience, I became aware of another breakthrough in solving the problem of winning Alexander. For I had begun to realise that winning Alexander really _would _be a matter of _winning_ Alexander, as one might win a prize at the games. The usual youth's language of lingering gazes, light touches and suggestive analogies, surely universal to every gymnasium, classroom, stable yard or training ground, would not work with Alexander because for some inexplicable reason he was either ignorant of it or had taken against it. The whys and wherefores of that were not important to me – a general in the middle of a battle did not waste time wondering why the war had begun.

The way to win Alexander, I decided, was to match him. To compete against him, not as an enemy but as a fellow athlete, just like in the games. It wasn't enough to rely on his benevolence, of his protective feelings; I must excite that insatiable curiosity, must captivate that romantic heart, fire that competitive spirit. Today, on the hunt, I must no longer try only to keep pace with the others - I must surpass them.

Most of the others were awake when we returned to the camp; only Leonatus and Nikanor, who had taken the last watch of the night, had been allowed to sleep until breakfast was ready. Alexander and I had collected firewood on our way and Perdiccas and Cassander had been to fetch water; we set about sweeping aside the ashes of the old fire and laying a new one, and within a surprisingly short space of time a large cauldron of porridge was bubbling temptingly, sweetened by a jar of honey Hector claimed have found quite unexpectedly in his kit.

Alexander and I finished eating before the others – Alexander claimed it was a mistake to eat too much before a morning of hunting, but to be honest we had gorged ourselves so enthusiastically on wild strawberries it was hard to fit the porridge in. As we had also already bathed, we were left with a little time to ourselves while the other boys finished their meal and went to get ready for the hunt.

"Alexander," I began airily, "I was thinking… Crateros says we're going to hunt as a group today, so the spear would be better than the bow… could you help me with my technique? You're so much better at it than me…"

Alexander grinned happily. I had a sense he had been waiting for a request like this since we set out the morning before. "Of course, Hephaestion! Come on… we've still got a little time…"

I must have disappointed him as a student, though he never said so – certainly I was clumsy and inattentive, more interested in the feel of Alexander's strong, calloused little hands on me than in following his directions. "Here, Hephaestion… hold your arm like this…" Alexander said, reaching his arms around me from behind, "think how they throw the javelin at the games, the way they put the whole weight of their body behind it…"

As I hurled the spear, I deliberately let myself stumble forward just a little so that Alexander fell against me, instinctively clutching me about the waist. His body was still wonderfully hot, and I was quite sure he hesitated just a little before releasing me. When I turned to look at him, there was a pretty pink flush on his cheeks that was distinctly promising. But just as I was about to take his hand, we were disturbed by Crateros bellowing the order for the hunting party to assemble. I told myself it didn't matter – I still had another whole day. I would think of some way to impress Alexander; I had a feeling I was already half way there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hephaestion Goes Hunting! By Moon 71**

**SUMMARY**: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander's wolf pack…

**NOTE: **Thank you again to those who reviewed!!! And I can only apologise for how long it has taken me to update this. All I have to do is upload but quite frankly I've been running in circles trying to catch up with Christmas and have only just caught up with myself! It's a long time to leave boys out in the wild in the cold, but they're tough little soldiers so I won't lose sleep over it!

**CHAPTER 4:** So it's the day of the big hunt and Hephaestion is determined to cut a dashing figure in front of Alexander. But what is it they say about the best laid plans…?

_

* * *

"Hephaestion, you - IDIOT!"_

Crateros' reproach, bawled at a volume more suitable to the parade ground than the forests, sent birds flapping from the trees and rabbits scurrying into their burrows. At that I could not decide what was more agonising – the pain in my twisted ankle, Crateros' ferocious glare, the snickering of the other boys… or the look of dismay on Alexander's face.

"I couldn't help it," I mumbled to no-one in particular, "I caught my foot on a tree root…"

"No excuses, son of Amyntor," Crateros growled, "a good commander watches his troops as well as the enemy, and I was watching _you! _You weren't paying attention!"

What could I say to that? The man was right. I had tried to concentrate on the hunt, especially when, in the early afternoon, we caught sight of a stag not full grown but big enough to provide a worthy challenge for a party of boys. But my mind would keep wandering to how well I might look in Alexander's eyes as I clutched my spear and stepped as quietly as a I could, and what he might think if I was the one to deliver the decisive blow. Hubris, my father always warned me, is hated by the gods above all other sins. I made enough more than enough noise crashing to the ground to send our prey leaping away; the fact that I had let out something close to a scream as my ankle turned was surely only to increase my utter mortification and to make me look as stupid as possible before the prince.

"Telephus, king of Mysia, was tripped by a vine and wounded by Achilles when he forgot to sacrifice to Dionysus," Hector piped up with an admirably straight face, "perhaps you should have made a sacrifice to Artemis this morning, Hephaestion!"

"Well if you ask me, we should have brought some hunting dogs," Leonatus declared, "how can we expect to bring down a deer without hunting dogs?"

"And some slaves to act as beaters…" Perdiccas suggested.

"_Shut up, __the lot of you!" _Crateros snarled. "Sacrifices! Hunting dogs! _Beaters! _Just listen to yourselves! If you don't pull yourselves together, the only thing getting beaten today will be your tender girl's arses! This is a training exercise, not a bloody picnic! What did I say to you before we set out? You're hiding out in the forests, in hostile territory! You haven't eaten for days! If you don't make a kill soon, you'll be too weak to try again! Your men are hungry and frightened and they're relying on you to save them! One wrong move, one careless second, and the enemy might catch you! Zeus protect us all," he cried in disgust, thrusting his spear into the ground, "with a bunch of women like you making up the future Bodyguard,we'll all be speaking Persian in a generation!"

Suitably chastened, we fell silent. Wishing some capricious god would take this moment to turn me into a flower or a tree or an overheated wood-nymph might inexplicably fall in love with me and carry me off into the deepest recesses of the forest, I began sullenly to struggle to my feet, but when I rested weight on my ankle I could not help moaning in pain.

Muttering curses, Crateros strode over to me, Alexander, to my chagrin, at his heels. Couldn't the boy once, just _once, _stop being our future commander and just mind his own business? "Damnation," Crateros hissed, touching the rapidly swelling joint with surprisingly gentle fingers, "can you move your foot, boy?"

It hurt, but it was possible. I nodded, embarrassed to feel the sting of tears behind my eyes.

"Probably a bad sprain," Alexander put in knowingly. "Nothing to worry about."

I wanted to strangle him.

"Get yourself back to camp," Crateros grunted, "Lysimachus knows how to treat these sorts of injuries. Want one of the other boys to go with you?"

"No," I said quickly, determinedly avoiding Alexander's gaze though I had felt his eyes shift to my face as I spoke. "I can make it."

"Well said, lad," Crateros said in a very soft voice. "Get on with you, then," he barked in his more characteristic tone, "come on, Alexander…"

"But Crateros, I should…"

I did not wait to hear what Alexander should; leaning on my spear, I limped away as fast as I was able. No doubt Alexander thought he should escort me back to camp, or even sit out the hunt with me, because he had so dutifully promised my father that he would look after me. Hubris indeed – I certainly had his attention now! I had wanted his admiration – instead, I had the most dreadful feeling I would endure a whole day of his condescending sympathy. I wanted to scream.

In a flash of temper, I began to strike out at the bushes with my spear as I hobbled along, hoping with undiluted malice that I had knocked a woodland sprite or two out cold in the process.

"Hephaestion…"

I cringed as I heard Alexander softly call my name. "Go away, Alexander," I grumbled, refusing to turn back and look at him. "You're supposed to be with the hunt!"

"But Hephaestion, I wanted to tell – _Zeus Pater, Hephaestion, LOOK OUT!"_

All I know of what happened in the next moment was what others have told me. As one of the best witnesses was Alexander, and as, in light of what happened later that day I have reason to consider him biased, I will never be quite sure exactly how it all happened. The only thing I remember is this loud, horrible squealing sound and a dark shape as big and as ugly as Cerberus himself exploding out of the undergrowth to hurtle unstoppably in my direction. In our direction. Mine – and Alexander's. I vaguely remember hurling my spear, and the pain that shot through my arm from the power of the thrust. After that, all I remember was falling into darkness, and the sense that the earth had finally had the compassion to open and swallow me up.

* * *

"Easy, boy, easy now…" 

"He's waking up!"

"I can see that, son of Parmenion – make yourself useful and pass me a damp cloth… the rest of you stop gawping and look alive! The hunt's not over yet!"

"But why do we need to do any more hunting?" I heard someone complain, "we've got that huge boar to eat!"

I blinked dizzily. A boar? Where? When had they managed to kill a boar?

"Just for that, you're on foraging duty, son of Antipater! Take that basket and don't come back until it's full! Fruit, nuts, edible roots! Go with him, Perdicas…"

I gazed blearily around me. Someone squeezed my shoulder reassuringly and presently Lysimachus' kindly features swam into view as he bathed my face with a cold cloth.

"There now," I heard him say, a distinct twinkle in his eyes, "welcome back, son of Amyntor."

I stared at him, then shifted around. I could see Perdiccas and Iollas disappearing into the woodlands carrying a basket, and Nicanor and Leonatus returning with several bulging water-skins. Hector was kneeling beside Lysimachus, and I could just make out Cassander crouching beside what indeed looked like the carcass of an enormous wild boar. But I couldn't see…

_"Alexander…!"_ I whimpered helplessly, struggling to sit up. The grip tightened on my shoulders and I vaguely realised that it was Crateros sitting behind me, actually cradling me in his arms.

"Take it slowly, Hephaestion," Lysimachus admonished, "you had quite a fall as well as a shock!"

"But – Alexander!" I cried, "Where is – "

"…Here I am, Hephaestion…"

Alexander suddenly appeared beside me. He sounded a little reluctant, almost as if he would rather be somewhere else. His face was very pale, and his grey eyes seemed large and luminous in contrast. He was staring at me as if he had never seen me before, and as soon as I focused upon him he quickly looked away. "I'll collect the herbs and bark for Hephaestion's ankle," I heard him say, and in a flash he was gone.

What was wrong with him? Had I done something wrong? Or was he still angry with me after the fiasco of the earlier hunt? And why was everyone staring at me like that? "What…?" I began.

"You killed a boar, Hephaestion!" Cassander told me breathlessly, apparently the first one to recognise my utter confusion, "you killed your first boar! On your first hunting trip! I haven't even killed mine yet! And it's _huge!"_

"And then you fainted!" Hector giggled.

"Enough of that, son of Parmenion," Crateros scolded. "Don't pay them any mind," he added to me, "I remember the day I killed mine – my father took me out into the thick woodlands one day, and told me if I dared to come home without a boar, he'd whip me! Well I was more afraid of one of his beatings than I was of getting killed by a wild boar, or of being out in the wilds on my own for that matter, so I set to it! And I got my kill, sure enough, though I was so terrified I just about pissed myself in the process!"

The other boys howled with laughter, but I remained quiet, feeling a sudden new respect for this hard, blunt spoken young officer who Alexander seemed to admire so much. All the same, I only half listened as the others plied him with questions until he related the story in more detail, pausing every now and then to bark orders at them. It was only just sinking in at last – I had killed a boar. _I had killed my first boar!_

_I had killed my first boar in front of Alexander!_


	6. Chapter 6

**HEPHAESTION GOES HUNTING! By Moon71**

**SUMMARY**: Newly arrived at the Macedonian Court, Hephaestion decides a hunting expedition is the ideal opportunity to establish his place in Prince Alexander's wolf pack…

**NOTE: **Here we are at the final part! A warm and heartfelt thank you to all of you who have taken time to review; also a general thank you to everyone these past couple of years who has reviewed or written to me or recommended me, or just enjoyed my stories! Not only have you helped me to improve my writing and inspired me to write more, but you've all made me feel so proud to be Moon71! **A very, very happy New Year to all of you!**

**CHAPTER 6: **So Hephaestion has had his chance to impress Alexander after all! But is Alexander actually impressed? Just what is bothering him now? (A few of you had a go at guessing, but were any of you right…?)

* * *

Perhaps it was the shock, or the morning of tramping through the forests, or even the bang on the head I'd taken when I'd fallen to the ground, but I found myself drifting in and out of a lazy sleep as I sat by the campfire and watched Alexander and Lysimachus slicing and crushing the herbs Alexander had gathered. I could hear Alexander talking in an urgent whisper to his old tutor, but beyond the occasional mention of my name I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.

"Here, son, try to stay with us now… drink this," Lysimachus said softly. I opened my eyes and accepted a cup of what smelled like some concoction my nurse Aithra gave when I was ill. "A simple camomile infusion," he reassured me, "it will help to steady you… and a little honey to restore your energy!"

I drank gratefully, finding it soothing. A moment later, Alexander came to kneel beside me, gently lifting my foot into his lap and beginning to rub a dark greenish paste over the swelling. The ointment, whatever it was, had a cool, fresh scent and very quickly began to ease the throbbing pain. Once it was applied Alexander bound the ankle with a clean cloth.

He did all of this in silence, barely acknowledging my murmur of thanks. When I looked down at him he looked away, but the moment I averted my gaze I felt his eyes upon me again. I couldn't help frowning at him – how long was he going to keep that up? And why was he so _quiet?_ It had occurred to me that he might be jealous, but Alexander had already killed his first boar – Perdiccas had related the story before Crateros had finally lost patience and dragged the other boys away to continue the hunt. If anything, Alexander should be thoroughly pleased with himself – by his reasoning, surely an act of exceptional valour by one of his "soldiers" reflected positively on him? I could just hear him telling my father that he had taken away a boy and brought back a man!

I swallowed the last of the infusion and watched Alexander through narrowed eyes. His colour had come back soon enough – in fact, he looked distinctly rosy, almost feverish. And those grey eyes of his were very bright. While he had been tending my sprained ankle I could hear his breathing, soft but quick, as if he had been running.

"I'm sorry I missed your glorious moment, son of Amyntor," Lysimachus said, breaking into my thoughts, "but Alexander has been telling me all about it. He says you were quite magnificent; that you threw your spear like a Hero in the Trojan War and struck the boar right in the heart! Isn't that so, Alexander…?"

"Oh… yes…!" Alexander murmured, shifting uncomfortably.

Lysimachus glanced from me to Alexander, and then back to me with a mischievous grin. I smiled back uncertainly, wondering if it was I or Alexander who was being teased, or if in fact I was being given a quiet hint. I smiled at Alexander too, but he coloured even more deeply and looked away.

* * *

The evening was a magical one. The entire hunting party toasted me as we dined on savoury, well seasoned pork garnished with more of Hector's apparently unending supply of honey. What bread remained had grown stale, but there was still a little of the cheese along with roots wrapped in leaves and baked in the fire and plenty of fruit. Then Lysimachus told the story of Orion the hunter stumbling upon Artemis bathing naked with her ladies, which made us giggle delightedly. As I sat there, I felt an unexpected pang – we were to decamp tomorrow morning and head home. I never thought the idea of it would cause me any regret, yet these two days had become something very special.

Perhaps not least because by now I had fully absorbed the true greatness of my achievement. Moving from one city, one culture to another, I had known vaguely about the ritual of the boar-killing among Macedonians, but gaining permission to recline at banquets seemed such an abstract achievement, something I would only worry about in the future if Macedon was to finally be my permanent home. Now I was beginning to feel the thrill not just of the killing, but of the _kill. _The _danger. _The boar could have killed me! I could have frozen to the spot and been gored to death! I could have wet myself and run away like a girl! In front of Alexander! I could have run away… and it could have killed him instead.

Had I saved Alexander's life? Was that why he was acting so strangely?

No, it was something else. All night Alexander was quiet but restive. He hardly seemed to be paying attention either to Lysimachus' stories or the chatter of our friends. Even when Leonatus made several dirty jokes about what Orion might have seen before Artemis struck him down Alexander did not react. And every time I turned toward him, I caught his eyes on me before he looked away. He looked… confused. He looked…

All at once the answer came to me. I was fairly certain I knew what was wrong… I was not quite so sure I was right about the reason why. But suddenly I could not wait until it was time for bed.

"It's even colder tonight," I ventured as we laid out our furs.

"Oh… yes, it is…" Alexander nodded, as if I'd said something profound.

"So… shall we share the furs again?"

"I… if you like, Hephaestion…"

I undressed quickly, my back to Alexander, so that he could not see my arousal. He'd feel it soon enough when he lay beside me, but for some reason I was overcome with shyness at the thought of his seeing it. I told myself it was always a little nerve-wracking with a new boy, you never knew what to expect. And no-one could ever know what to expect from Alexander. I lay down and closed my eyes, waiting for Alexander to join me.

After a long moment, I opened my eyes again. Alexander was kneeling beside me, still in his chiton, his hands in his lap. There was a confused, helpless look in his eyes and I could hear him breathing very quickly.

"Aren't you going to get undressed?" I asked innocently

"I…"

"Are you all right, Alexander…?"

"Yes! No, I… Hephaestion… I…"

"It's all right, Alexander… really it is…" I could not help smiling at him, but it was not meant in mockery. Slowly, I pushed back the furs from my own body and let him see me.

Alexander stared with wide eyes. "Hephaestion…?"

Very gently I slid my hand up his thigh, under his chiton. For a moment his hands blocked mine, but then he let me touch him. As I heard a soft moan escape him, I shifted onto my knees and tugged the chiton off him before looking down at his erection. Not as big as mine, I noted, but quite in proportion with his figure, and very beautifully formed. With experienced fingers I began to stroke him, sighing with pleasure as he gradually began to reciprocate. He was not as practised as I was, but he learned quickly – whatever I did, he imitated with skill. As I increased the pace, Alexander whimpered loud enough to be heard by the others. "Oh Hephaestion…" I heard him gasp, "that's…"

"Shhh…." I grinned, "the whole camp will know what we're up to!"

Alexander hardly seemed to hear me; his eyes were glazed, his head was thrown back and his skin was burning hot. As he moaned once more, I quickly grabbed him, pressing his face into the crook of my neck, hoping only to muffle his squeals. But a moment later I felt moist, warm lips pressed to the sensitive skin of my throat.

For a second I was frozen with shock, but then my whole body began to shiver with pleasure. Perhaps I had been wrong about Alexander – perhaps he was not inexperienced at all. Perhaps this was the way boys did it in Macedon? I couldn't help a soft moan of my own as Alexander's lips made their way across my cheek, tickling me with light little kisses. With his free hand he caught my chin and the next thing I knew his mouth was upon mine, eagerly licking my lips.

This was definitely unexpected! I had never _kissed_ another boy before – I had certainly never had one try to kiss me! Tentatively I parted my lips and let Alexander slip his tongue inside. After a few seconds of hesitation I met it with my own. It felt strange – Alexander's mouth was both salty and sweet. But it felt nice, too. I slipped my arm about his waist and crushed him close, letting go of his manhood to rub my own body against it.

Neither of us was able to last long. Alexander finished first, but he didn't push me away; he continued to kiss me and stroke my hair as I buried my face in his shoulder while I climaxed, biting my teeth together to stop myself crying out.

Finally I let go, sliding limply back onto the furs. I had expected Alexander to let go of me too – that was what the other boys did. But instead he clung to me and fell with me, so that we lay entangled, Alexander's head upon my shoulder, his hand pressed over my heart as though he wanted to make sure what we had done hadn't arrested its beat. I could feel him shivering, his hot breath caressing my neck as he panted softly.

"Is this all right…?" I heard him whisper, "to lie together like this afterwards, I mean…"

"Well…" I began without thinking, "well – we don't _usually…"_

I knew it had been a stupid thing to say even before I felt Alexander suddenly trying to pull free. Without thinking any further, I caught him about the waist and drew him back down. Cuddling _wasn't_ the usual thing; it probably wasn't very manly. But I didn't care. All I knew was that I liked holding him and I wanted to continue holding him. After a moment he subsided, his arms snaking around me.

"I've never done that with another boy," he said very quietly.

I was stunned, even a little touched by his honesty. "I couldn't tell…" I assured him.

"I didn't think I wanted to," he went on in the same soft, confidential tone, his lips brushing against my skin as he spoke, "I didn't think it was important… I thought maybe I should feel something but I didn't, and I asked Phoenix about it, but he said I shouldn't worry about it so I didn't, but… when I saw you kill the boar, I… you looked so beautiful, just like Orion himself, and so fearless too, and all at once I…"

I felt the blood rush to my face. No-one had ever said I was beautiful before. One or two of the older boys I had known had said I was "pretty" and "sweet" but I knew that was just because they wanted to do more complicated things than touching with me and I had taken no notice. This was completely different. What should I say in reply?

In the end, I did not say another word that night. I just bent my head and kissed Alexander very lightly on the mouth. As I heard Alexander give a sleepy sigh and burrow closer, I knew I had made the right choice.

* * *

After a breakfast of porridge and cold pork we dismantled our tents and bundled our belongings onto the sturdy little pack-ponies. My ankle, forgotten during the night, was stiff and still a little sore, though perhaps thanks to the ointment made by Lysimachus and Alexander the swelling had greatly reduced. I tried to disguise my limp as I began to lead one of the ponies away.

"Would you like to share my horse, son of Amyntor?" Lysimachus called to me in too matter-of-fact a manner to make me feel embarrassed.

Actually I would have loved to. The long march over rough, uneven ground in the rising heat was not an appetising prospect. But then I caught sight of Alexander, and then Crateros, both of whom had stopped to watch me, and I shook my head. "Thank you, but I'll be all right," I told Lysimachus, "a soldier should learn to endure pain."

Crateros nodded approvingly, though I heard some sniggers from a few of the boys and Lysimachus gave an ironic little smile before he looked away.

"As you wish, Hephaestion…"

Alexander beamed at me, quite boldly slipping his arm about my waist. "Here, lean your weight on me, Hephaestion," he said cheerfully, "a soldier should always be able to rely on the help of his comrades!"

And so we made slow but steady progress. It was natural enough that Alexander and I should fall behind, but as we got closer and closer to Pella I became aware that Alexander was deliberately holding me back. Finally he stopped, pretending to adjust the bundles on the little pony's back before glancing shyly towards me.

"Hephaestion, I… you won't tell anyone else about what we did, will you?"

I chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about that, Alexander… no-one will think anything of it, me and my friends used to do it all the time!"

To my surprise, Alexander looked downcast at this news. "You've done this with lots of other boys?"

"Well… not lots," I admitted reluctantly, "only a few… Why? What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing…" Alexander replied sadly, "it's just… I thought… that you liked _me_ especially…"

"I _do,"_ I said, then wondered why I had said it.

"Then you won't do those things with anyone else?"

I looked at him in surprise. "That's a strange thing to ask!"

Alexander frowned at me. "So you wouldn't mind if I did those things with… with Leonatus or Perdiccas or someone else?"

I hesitated. Actually I didn't much like the idea of it at all. I didn't know why – it had never bothered me with anyone else. But there was something special about Alexander's touch, something special about his reaction to mine. I didn't want anyone else to feel what I felt when I was with him. It was too complicated to analyse it all now; I told myself resolutely I would have weeks and months to puzzle it out.

"Perhaps I would mind," I said at length, "I don't know… all I know is that… well… it was nicer with you than it was with anyone else."

Alexander brightened at that. "Really…?"

"And… I liked it, you know, when you kissed me," I added more softly, "no-one has ever done _that_ before…"

Alexander smiled warmly at me, reaching to press my hand. I looked away shyly, wondering why my stomach was fluttering.

Whatever I had planned or hoped for the day we set out on this hunt, I had certainly never dreamed of this. These new feelings were perplexing and not necessarily welcome; there was something bothersome and grownup about them and I was not sure I was ready for such things. Suddenly there seemed only one thing I could be sure of – whatever else life in Macedon might turn out to be, it certainly wasn't going to be dull.

**THE END!**

2/8/07


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